Shadow's Voice

by Natalie Johanson

  Rose’s eyes unfocused as she thought back. It seemed such a long time ago.

  “I know little about magics but I’ve been around Mariah long enough to know everything has its costs. How far had you traveled from?”

  Rose focused on his face again. “I was not far from Berthton.”

  King Micah’s eyes widened. “That is a very far distance.”

  Rose nodded. “I did not know what I was doing. Or where I was going. I was in shadow before I realized what I had done.”

  “How did you survive?”

  “From what I’m feeling and what you’ve told me, I am starting to think I almost didn’t.”

  “Mariah quickly realized you may be in shock from magic use. She had Madame Rita stuff you with berries.”

  “With what?” Rose tried to sit up straighter but her back continued to burn. It was getting worse as the time went on.

  His left eyebrow rose. “The Subpleont berries? They’re sort of a purple-black color?”

  Rose just kept frowning and shaking her head.

  “You’ve never heard of it? It’s a rather nasty tasting berry but it is the only plant known to counteract the toll of magic. Mariah often drinks a tea she makes from its leaves to stop her headaches.”

  “And this . . . berry saved me?”

  “Madame Rita thinks it did; or helped at least. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it. I’ve never met a magic user who hasn’t.” His voice was full of surprise.

  Rose looked away. “Having magic is not always a good thing. All of you here . . . in the castle . . . you call magic a gift. I’ve always known it to be a curse. I have hidden it from everyone, even myself when I was young. I had no one to ask for help, no one to show me how to survive with it. Everything I know about my curse I’ve learned for myself.”

  The king shifted in his chair. “I forget how many fear magic outside of the capital.”

  This king . . . I’ve risked so much in such a short time for this king. Rose sighed to herself. He knows nothing of his people. She almost felt anger for risking so much for such a naïve man, but found she was just tired; tired and disappointed.

  “Perhaps you should travel outside of the capital, past the safety of Haven Province; see the people who live in a fear you know nothing of.” Her voice was lower than she expected it to be and she wondered how much of her disappointment could be heard in her voice.

  King Micah said nothing, and Rose never lifted her eyes off her hands. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say that,” she said with some regret.

  “Yes, you did,” King Micah spoke softly. “And you are right. I have not been on the throne for a long time, and there are many things I do not yet see.”

  Rose finally turned her eyes back to her king.

  “Perhaps, when you are well, you could show me some of the things I am missing.”

  She stared at him. Rose searched his face looking for some hint at his intentions. He met her scrutiny and waited. Does he truly want to learn? “You are not as I expected.” She frowned and corrected herself. “No. You are . . . but you aren’t, too.”

  “How’s that, if I may ask?”

  “You are a rich man living with everything you could possibly need. You have warm clothes and more than enough food. Guards guarantee your safety. You say you do not know or see all your people, but I do not think you look. I expected you to be naïve about life outside of yours. And you are.” Rose paused when the king visibly cringed at her declaration. Their lives were so very different. She continued. “But you admit this. That is where you are not as I expected.”

  She waited for his reaction. If he could not accept this, then she couldn’t show him what he wanted.

  He smiled. “My grandmother used to always tell me, ‘the man that denies a truth, even as it stands directly in front of him, is not only a fool but a dangerous fool.’ I think if my grandmother were alive today, you would’ve liked her.”

  Relief flooded through her. Rose smiled with him. “Well, she had excellent taste in flowers.”

  Micah laughed but Rose tried to smother a cringe. Sharp, stabbing pains shot through her arm.

  “I should leave you to your recovery.”

  “I fear . . .” Rose paused and cringed when she tried to move, “that sleep will come with the aid of one of Madame Rita’s foul-tasting concoctions.”

  “Shall I fetch her?”

  I doubt anyone can “fetch” the bull-headed Healer. Rose giggled to herself as she imagined Rita’s reaction to being fetched. “Thank you.”

  King Micah nodded his head once and left.

  Rose tried to tug the strap of the sling into a better spot. The blasted thing kept rubbing on her burn. It was healed, for the most part. Daymon had sped up the healing over the days. The new skin was red and tender; most was still covered in bleeding scabs. She was wrapped in enough bandages she was starting to feel suffocated. Her arm, however, was still useless. Daymon had only managed to get her hand and wrist working so far.

  “Are you uncomfortable?” Captain Sayla asked.

  She was able to hold back the tart reply and simply say, “I’m fine.”

  Captain Sayla raised an eyebrow and Rose grimaced. “The king should be here soon. He was finishing a briefing with his advisors.”

  Rose nodded and looked around the study. Should we be in here if he isn’t?

  “King Micah requested we wait here for him. We are not intruding.”

  “Stop doing that,” she muttered. Rose stared at a painting behind the desk, although she didn’t miss the frown from Captain Sayla. The painting was a small portrait of a horse’s head. The detail on it was astounding. Rose could even see the horse’s lashes.

  “Pardon the wait, captain, Miss Trewin.” King Micah spoke as he rounded the desk. “Now—”

  “Did you paint that?” Rose interrupted him.

  “Uh,” Micah turned to the painting she was staring at. “Yes, I did actually.” He turned back to Rose. “How did you know?”

  Rose turned away from the painting. “Lucky guess. Did you paint all of these?”

  Micah looked around his study at the different paintings. “No, some were done by my grandmother.”

  Rose nodded.

  “Now, if we may begin?” He started over. “First, I think you should know Simone was captured while you were in Amora.”

  Rose sat up. “She was?”

  “She has been . . . helpful.”

  I bet. Rose smirked to herself.

  “A deal was struck.” King Micah continued. “She told us all she knows, which wasn’t as much as I wished, but it is useful.”

  “What did she know?”

  “She knows when the assassination is supposed to occur. We have enough time to try to plan around it now.”

  Rose nodded and shifted the strap again. “That’s good news.”

  “She also said to tell you our oath was wasted on her.”

  Rose frowned at him.

  “Simone said she had been exiled,” King Micah said. “I did not ask.”

  Rose watched him with hard eyes a moment longer than she should have before looking away. She leaned back only to hiss at the pain and sit forward again.

  King Micah met her eyes and frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she pissed Michael off and he cut her out of the clan,” Rose replied curtly.

  “I’ve angered you,” he stated, still frowning.

  “You’re proving my point,” she said, a little harsher than she expected. “You don’t look. You didn’t ask. You don’t care to find out.”

  The king ducked his head and looked chagrined. “You are right,” he admitted.

  “You said the Tracers don’t have a clan.” Captain Sayla
spoke up into the silence that followed and brought them back to the topic at hand.

  “Not officially,” Rose corrected. “Not one recognized by the crown. But they are organized in a clan. Michael is the leader. Nothing is done without his approval. If he cut her out of the clan that means the oath I made to Michael didn’t apply to her.”

  “Which was? How do you know this Michael?” King Micah asked.

  Rose dragged her eyes to the king. “I worked for him . . .once.”

  King Micah watched her silently for a moment but didn’t press when she didn’t answer further.

  “I would like to hear your tale, then.”

  Rose nodded and told them, as directly as possible, about to trip to Amora. “While in the keep I discovered . . .” Rose paused. “The man who attacked me on my return, he was in the keep as well. I think . . . I think he is like me, somehow.”

  “What do you mean?” Captain Sayla spoke up from her chair next to the desk.

  “He . . . I think he was watching me from the moment I entered his room. And the second time, he knew I was there. I think he used the shadows to track me after I left. When he saw me, in the shadows, he told me I was playing a dangerous game without knowing the rules.”

  Captain Sayla slid her eyes to King Micah.

  Rose continued, “In his room I found this book. It looked like it was written in an old glyph tongue. I couldn’t read it. It had sketches of magics. This man knows magic.”

  She thought about telling them about the paper, about the book and Gerik, but something held her back. It felt like a secret she needed to keep with her shadows. It involved her magic and she didn’t know, yet, how much she wanted to share. Rose didn’t know what it meant or how it would affect her. Until she did, she was keeping it to herself.

  “The book also had a drawing. In order to explain the other drawing I found, I need to explain something that happened before I came to the castle.” She looked at the king who nodded at her. “You asked me how I found my way here, and it was because the shadows showed me.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Rose took a deep breath and tried to explain, “The shadows, they . . . came alive, I think. Giant black wolves that were shadow led me to the road. In the book, there was a drawing of those wolves. It showed exactly what I saw.”

  Micah was nodding while staring at her. It was the captain that spoke up. “Elemental mages, perhaps?”

  Rose turned to her. “I suppose. I don’t know.” She glanced at the king. “I don’t know about mages. Is shadow . . . is that what I am?”

  Captain Sayla cocked her head. “Honestly, I am not sure what you are yet.”

  Rose clucked her tongue and continued her story, “I could not look more at the book because they came in, Lord Damian and the . . . mage. I did learn something of grave importance. You were not the first to send a spy.”

  “Lord Damian sent a spy? Did you discover who?”

  Rose shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I know the spy is a woman and that she is looking for something. Whatever she is looking for, she didn’t find it in your study or the Great Library.”

  Mariah cursed under her breath.

  “She’s been in my study?” He turned to Mariah with a curse. “For the love . . . How did she get in my study? She could’ve been in any of my personal rooms if she got in there.”

  “I am aware of this, Sire,” the captain grumbled while pinching the bridge of her nose.

  King Micah rubbed his face. “Send Ben in when you leave. I need to speak with him about his staff. Aaron,” he addressed the quiet guard standing forgotten against the wall, “you will join us.”

  Rose looked back and forth between the two. “I am sorry I didn’t find more about her.”

  “Do not apologize, Miss Trewin. It is not for your lack of trying.”

  “There is more, I’m afraid.” He nodded and she continued. “I found a map and supply orders going to two locations. One is the Invius Mountains and another in the southern swamps of Rosemond.”

  Micah rubbed his face. “Simone told us of a group of soldiers in the mountains. She did not tell us of the swamp.”

  “Perhaps she didn’t know. Her information is thin as it is,” Captain Sayla suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Micah echoed. “Was there more to your tale, Miss Trewin?”

  Rose hesitated. “There was a chance I’d been discovered, and I couldn’t risk any more time in the Keep.”

  King Micah glanced down at his clasped hands before speaking. “We did learn from Simone that they were first hired to guard merchant trains to and from Hostal’s Coast. From what she was able to tell us, Amora Province has received nearly three times the normal shipments. We don’t know what was in them, nor where they were shipped from. We have access to all trade records, but so far we haven’t found any records of these shipments.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t.”

  Captain Sayla and King Micah stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “If they are coming from Hostal’s Coast then they are most likely using Hostal’s port to bring the merchandise into the country. The port trades almost exclusively with the Black Hills, and the records go to their leaders, not the crown. That was the one demand they made all those years ago when a trade agreement was finally made.”

  Micah sat back with an astonished look on his face. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “I’m confused. I do not see the connection,” Captain Sayla spoke.

  “The Black Hill Islands aren’t under the crown rule. Only thing the king receives is the tax,” Rose said. “It is why, with all due respect Sire, the merchants that can afford to trade with the Black Hills do.”

  “And how do you know that?” Captain Sayla asked.

  “I’ve traded with them a couple of times. If he really is supplying an army he’s doing it through the Black Hills. Besides the Hills are rich in ores. It would be very easy for him supply an army with weapons and armor with the ore from the Hills and never be discovered.”

  The king nodded. “Very good then, Miss Trewin. If there is nothing more, you may return to your rest; Captain, you may return to your duties.”

  “Yes, Sire.” Captain Sayla exited.

  Rose stood but hesitated by the king’s desk. He had gone back to staring down at his desk. She wanted to say something but she could think of nothing. It isn’t my place, anyway. She turned and followed the captain out.

  Rose fingered the strap, shifted it again. The air was cool in the dungeons, and the guards lining the walls, the locked doors and cells made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She walked down the long hallway until she found the cell, no wooden door only bars and a lock, with Simone sitting in the corner. She’d curled in on herself, knees drawn to her chest. Rose stopped in front of the bars and waited until the drawn woman looked up at her.

  “You look like shit.”

  Rose snorted and grimaced at Simone, covered in bruises and scabbed cuts. “Like you look any better.”

  Simone sneered at her. “What do you want?”

  “What’d you do to be exiled by Michael?”

  Simone shot tired eyes to Rose. “I wasn’t one of the strong ones. I’m not terrible, mind you, but,” she sighed. “I wasn’t . . . special. And I Tracked for a family Michael had forbidden any of us working for. Bad blood between them, I guess. But I worked for them anyway. I wanted to spite Michael, for humiliating me.”

  “He exiled you for taking work he didn’t approve of?”

  “This family used me to get to Michael’s daughter. I didn’t realize that’s what . . . .” Simone let out a long, slow breath. “I didn’t see it coming, but because of me they were able to kidnap his little girl.”

  Rose sucked in a sharp breath, the sound
almost a whistle. “That was you!” she bit out. Her words were low, almost a growl. “That was your doing!”

  Simone’s eyes widened.

  Rose glanced quickly over her shoulder, around the room. The guards were occupied elsewhere, and no one was watching them. She stepped into the shadows, tears gathered in her eyes, and the burning pain nearly brought her to her knees, but one second later and she stepped out; on the other side of the bars into the dark cell. She gasped a breath and grabbed a fistful of Simone’s dirty shirt. Rose pulled the frightened woman close to her face. “I was hired to find that girl.”

  Simone eyes were wide, her breath coming in short bursts. “No. No, they hired an assassin, a finder, called Little Flower.”

  Rose bared her teeth at the woman in a silent snarl. “Do not . . . call me . . . that.”

  Simone’s face went pale. “That was you?”

  Rose shoved Simone against the wall and held her there. “Do you know what they tried to do to that girl?” Rose growled at her. “They kidnapped her. Broke the ransom deal with Michael and sold her to slavers. Do you know what I had to do to get that little girl back because of your ignorance?” Her angry, quiet voice was backed by a soft growl and Rose felt the shadows shift against the walls.

  Simone’s breath shook. Rose pushed her once more against the wall and let go, stepping away. Her breath felt loud in the dark cell, coming in fast angry puffs. They both were silent while Rose calmed her breathing and resisted the urge to slam her fist into the woman’s face for the trouble she’d caused.

  Finally, Rose spoke quietly into the room. “I’m not an assassin.”

  “The reputation I heard would suggest differently.”

  Rose glared at Simone and stepped back through the shadows to the free side of the bars. Her shoulder burned. Her head pounded like a war drum. Her soul was tired.

  “I heard Little Flower and Michael parted badly. Is that why you have the oath?”